The Greatest Paradox
by Astral Miscreant IV
Summary: Being a hero is hard, but sometimes falling in love is harder. She was the regal warrior goddess and he was the awkward forensic nerd, the differences were all too apparent to ignore. But perhaps they were more alike than they appeared to be. Set in the Justice League (2017) movie verse. Barry/Diana
1. Chapter 1: Don't Forget

**Preliminary Notes:** This story was created in accordance of the release of the new _Justice League_ movie on November 2017. There is very little that we know about the full in-depth plot/synopsis of the movie, thus I am merely writing based on what I know from a mixture of comic lore and inference. Simply know that it is set within the movie verse of _Justice League_ (2017).

* * *

 **Chapter One: Don't Forget You Chose This Life**

It was Friday night, one of the most turbulent nights of the week considering the average influx of crime rate that would spike between the hours of eight to four in the morning in Central City.

Barry found himself holed up in his surveillance room, passing time by lackadaisically scanning each parameter that he tapped into from the traffic cameras all over the city. Hours before, he had finished sending his last written analysis for a toxicology report on a driver who was attempting to plead innocence for the murder of two passerby while he was driving home inebriated. After the files were reported, he was allowed to finally retire to his home. But it was no rest for the weary really, since he knew he'd only end up in his surveillance room. Darting in and out to stop petty crimes every now and then, but inevitably ending up sitting on his chair and waiting for the most part.

Such was the life of a vigilante.

At one point in his life, he had been seriously considering to fully drop his primary job altogether and channel all his time into the League. However, he knew that pretenses needed to be held up and in a sense, forensics had been a hobby that blunted the momentum of the League's day-to-day pressures. Thus, to keep his sanity in check, Barry decided to keep on with the mundane. Someone had to do it.

Every one of his colleagues had their own respective day jobs—Clark worked in the _Daily Planet_ , Bruce played the part of billionaire chairman, hell, even Victor worked as an engineer at S.T.A.R. Labs. Every single one of them had a part to play, a facade to maintain. It was strange when he thought about how different each and every one of his colleagues occupations had been. They all varied in degree and upbringing. And yet, all of these people who came from different walks of life managed to come together as one collective. It was nothing short of remarkable.

To think that it all started when Bruce Wayne magically appeared in the middle of his surveillance room to offer him a position in the League. He hastily accepted the offer with fervor even, seeing as he was aware that he needed to make friends with the metahuman community. It was only after Darkseid's acolyte Steppenwolf came into the picture when the entire group became a cohesive force, binding on the fact that an imminent threat with the power to rival Superman had made an appearance on earth.

The battles they had endured in order to protect the earth were some of the most thrilling of his life. Never in his existence as a simple man with an immense love for science, would he imagine himself fighting on the battlefield next to the likes of actual gods and goddesses and even cyborgs. The idea in it of itself was what had him reeling, trying to ponder it all. And now, he himself had become a permanent fixture in the League—a now globally known force that had its own division in the U.N. It was the stuff of fairy tales really, not that he was one to believe in anything of the sort.

And now here he was, lounging on his second favorite chair while switching back and forth from watching a group of men coming out of a sports bar and crossing the walkway of Buchanan Ave. and 85th street at the same time trying to catch up on the last recording of Rick and Morty that he missed out on two weeks ago. The screens blurred into a jumble of colors and indiscernible noises now. Every now and then would his selective perception detect something amiss on the streets, though nothing serious had come about. Simply blank, white noise with the muffled sound of overtly obnoxious cartoon characters prattling in the distance was all that swarmed his senses.

Suddenly, a knock resounded throughout the room and his eyes immediately landed on the door.

Wondering who it was, he casually leaned in further in his chair to wait for whoever it was to let themselves in. After all, his surveillance room was inconspicuous to the casual wanderer, meaning only close friends and colleagues even knew of its location. He averted his eyes from the door and continued to fixate his attention on the screens before him.

"Who is it?" He called out, not once looking back as the door slowly creaked open.

 _"It's me,"_ he heard the familiar lilt of a feminine voice. "Just came in to check on you, Bruce said you'd be here."

He recognized that voice from anywhere. It was that strong, regal voice that was domineering yet gentle, a voice that belonged to a diplomat. Barry turned around to meet her visage and smiled lightly at her.

"Hey Diana," he greeted.

"Hello," she greeted back evenly as she sat herself on the arm of his chair. She was dressed in her civilian clothes, wearing a simple ensemble of a white mohair turtleneck sweater and black leather trousers. Though he wouldn't quite put it as simple as he knew that the princess was often casually wearing Givenchy and Margiela—apparently, designers loved her. He saw the appeal, but never really cared.

"Figured Bruce'd know where I'm hiding. I won't be surprised if he had some sort of hidden batcam somewhere around here that's been evading my sight."

"He probably does," Diana laughed before idly picking at a bag of Funyuns and a half-eaten container of instant ramen that had been haphazardly scattered around his desk. She then proceeded to give him a pointed look.

"What? I didn't have time for dinner, so I just made a quick stop at the convenience store down the corner," he shrugged.

"Mhm, that's exactly why I came to pay you a visit. I knew you'd probably be starving yourself from a proper meal."

"Well thanks for the concern, mom," he rolled his eyes. "It's not like I have the luxury of getting a hot five-course Michelin dinner at my five-star embassy. Peasants have to suffice with what we know as the dollar menu. Y'know, living in squalor and whatnot."

"It's actually a four-course meal," she replied sarcastically before shaking her head in all seriousness. "I've forgone the recherché dinners for a simple plate every night thank you very much. And you actually have the luxury to potentially grab a meal halfway across the world within minutes. Didn't you mention sharing a tilapia with a tribe in some obscure Central American village not too long ago just for the...how do you say...just for the hell of it?"

"Maybe so, maybe so. But I digress, simple carbohydrates aren't so bad once in awhile," he gestured gracefully towards the cold ramen bowl.

"Not with the amount of sodium packed into those bowls I'd argue."

"Eh, can't say I live for luxury."

"Or perhaps just a proper meal? A real dinner?" She continued. "You practically eat like a...how do you say it?"

"Like a poor man?" He joked.

"No, like a...like a college student!" She said brightly, having finally found the words she was thinking of.

Barry threw his head back as laughter erupted from his throat. "Same thing nowadays," he said as he wiped a tear at the corner of his eye.

"But instant ramen and Funyuns? Come on, Barry, you could do better than that."

"Eh, I had a long day. Had to be hasty with my dinner choices, albeit questionable as they are. Don't judge me."

Diana smiled at him, a gesture that would often have any other person swooning. Though with him, he had become desensitized to the act and simply shrugged it off.

"Why don't we grab some dinner?" She reached over his shoulder to pick up the plastic ramen bowl before tossing it in the trash. "I know a nice ramen bar in Little Tokyo. You know, the real stuff."

"But I'm—"

"Give it a rest Barry, you already know that Victor has the entire globe on surveillance back in the League HQ. A little time away from your surveillance room might just do you a little good."

"Yeah, but Central City's my turf," he whined.

"But you need to get out—decompress, eat a meal. Come on, Barry, just for an hour or two."

She gave him a look, one that he was quite familiar with. It was the authoritative no-nonsense look that meant for little room for arguments. He knew it well and he knew that there was no way in fighting her on the matter because once she put her foot down and gave that ostentatious glare, there was nothing that could appease her. And like always, Barry conceded. He sat up from his chair and threw his coat on without any further argument.

"Fine, fine. Let's go get some food," he sighed before opening the door for her and leading the way out.

"Glad you can see things my way," she replied triumphantly before reaching into her purse and pulling out a pair of sunglasses. She was a public figure around the world, her visage was found all over social media and publications, yet for some odd reason people managed to not notice her when she wore those giant sunglasses.

"Sometimes it's good to listen to a friend's advice every now and then, hm?"

"I don't really have a choice, now do I?"

Diana smirked the entire way there.

* * *

 _Nakiryu's_ was nestled in between the borrows of Little Tokyo right next to a commodity shop selling imported goods from Ginza and a Japanese-style bakery. It was a standard ramen bar that was outdoor and with stools for customers to sit and enjoy their bowls in the cold winter night. Thankfully, Central City's temperatures never dropped below zero, so snow was never really an issue.

They sat far off on the corner and away from most of the customers while the cook hastily took their orders and left to wait on the other occupants. Both he and Diana had ordered a simple bowl of miso ramen and some hot tea. While they waited, they conversed back and forth with idle chatter.

"How are things doing in the embassy? I saw on the news last night about some swanky governor's ball you attended. Did Clark go?" Barry inquired as he fiddled with a pair of chopsticks.

"Yes, I actually saw Clark among some of the other journalists at the ball the other night. And things are going fine I suppose. I'm going to be apart of a diplomatic convoy for the Red Cross to visit Burundi in a few days. Relations between the country and Rwanda are looking rather dubious seeing as its past history with genocide and race relations continue to bear a burden upon its diplomatic relations with their neighbors. I'll actually be there for a healthcare and education initiative that Red Cross has been trying to get the U.N. to approve."

"Hey, I was just near Burundi and the DRC area the other day actually. Arthur and I went there to check on some small-scale riots between Tutsi and Hutu gangs near a village in Ngozi—"

"Ah, I've heard about that from Victor. How did things go?"

"Well, aside from a few casualties, I think that the domestic issues are over...for now. Ngozi is edging near Rwanda and a lot of domestic terrorist groups have been emerging, lots of bad blood from the Tutsi genocide not too long ago I guess."

"Hm, I always knew things wouldn't change overnight. Though it has been nearly two decades...how long has it been, since 1994? You know...that was always something I never could quite understand when I first came to the patriarch's world. War over the oddest things has always been existent—race, religious differences—there's always some type of conflict that men find to fight about."

"Guess people are just sensitive about their beliefs, though that may be an oversimplification," he replied as he took a sip of tea that had been placed in front of them when they were not looking.

"Tell me about it."

Suddenly, a figure stepped out from the bakery next door causing Barry to nearly jump out of his seat.

"Shit!" He hissed before attempting to duck behind Diana.

In her confusion, Diana began to frantically search for whatever had him suddenly frightened. She turned her head side-to-side to find the source before giving him a questioning look.

"What's wrong?" She queried.

"It's Iris!" He said with his countenance now flustered. "Oh my God, oh my God, why is she here?"

"Iris?" Diana echoed in confusion before widening her eyes in realization. "Oh, you mean, Iris. Iris West? Your colleague's daughter from that publication...what was it? The Central City Picture News, right?"

"Yes, must you be obvious?" He whispered anxiously.

She turned around subtly to gaze at a petite brunette with glowing sable skin and long curly hair walking out of the bakery next door with an older man in tow, possibly her father from the similar features they shared.

"Ah, isn't that the woman you like?"

"Shhh! Yes."

"You know, from the stories you've told me, your depiction doesn't do her justice. I think she's beautiful," Diana smirked. "Why don't you call her over? That's her father isn't it? Maybe you can greet your colleague as a way to talk to her, huh?"

"Nope, nope, and nope. We will not be doing any of that nonsense tonight. I just wanted to grab a hot bowl of ramen, that's all."

She nudged him playfully. "Aww, come on, Barry. There's no fun in trying."

"Nope."

He hid closer behind her shoulder, but she seemed to only want to turn away from him each time he did.

Much to his dismay, Detective Joseph West's keen eye managed to spot him from a mile away despite the fact that he had been attempting to hide behind a statuesque woman.

"Barry! Is that you?" Joe exclaimed as he began to amble towards their direction.

"Shit, shit, shit," Barry murmured into Diana's sleeve, before peeking hastily over her shoulder to greet him. "Uh, hey, Joe. How's it going?"

Both Joe and Iris West made their way towards him and he could feel himself internally screaming.

"Hey Barry, how've you been?" Iris greeted sweetly and she turned over towards Diana with a slightly surprised expression. "Don't tell me you're on a date?"

"Hm, now I understand why you were in such a rush to leave the office tonight...you had a date!" Joe chimed in while patting him on the shoulder.

Iris laughed and Barry could only flush even redder at the sound. "I, uh, she's not...We aren't—"

"Hello, I'm Di-Demetria. I'm just a friend of Barry's, nothing else. It's nice to meet you," Diana introduced herself as she reached over to shake both of their hands.

"Nice to meet you too. Demetria, huh? That's quite a unique name," Joe said with a smile. "The name's Joseph West, but you can call me Joe."

"And I'm Iris, nice to meet you," The other woman chirped.

"Iris? What a lovely name. You know, that's actually one of my favorite flowers."

"Aww thank you, mine too! And I think your name is really pretty. Demetria sounds like some kind of Greek goddess, are you Greek?"

"Well, uh, yes. Yes I am," Diana affirmed lightly.

"Ah, so that's what the accent was. I was trying to determine what it was from the moment I heard you. It makes sense—I mean the sunglasses at night, must be a foreign thing..." Joe nodded his head.

"So, uh, what were you guys doing here?" Barry questioned awkwardly. Diana elbowed him lightly before smiling at the two.

"Oh, I mean, where are my manners? Uh, how've you been?" He continued.

"Well, we just came to stop by and get some crepes at the bakery after dinner. Dad and I have been dying to try this place here in Little Tokyo," Iris replied.

"And we've been well for the most part. You literally just saw me a few hours ago," Joe added teasingly. "But then again you and Iris haven't spoken in awhile, right?"

"Uh, yeah... How've you been Iris?" Barry flushed.

"Doing good. Same old same old at CCPN...buut, I've actually been coordinating for the most part as editor for the editorial and global pieces on CCPN's online platform, so I guess that's something new."

"That's great! You always seemed to have the makings of a good editor."

"Aw, thank you. That's very sweet of you Barry. Honestly, not many people tell me this. I honestly love reporting and doing actual fieldwork, but I really do think that my calling might be in editing. What do you think dad?"

"I think you do a splendid job dear," Joe beamed.

"Anyways, how've you been Barry?"

"Well, same old too I guess. Still doing forensics. Still at CCPD. Nothing new in all honesty."

"Well, you've always loved science and forensics seemed really up your alley. So, I'm glad you're doing what you love," Iris replied.

"Uh, thank you."

Joe waved hastily at the two interrupting the conversation midway. "Well, I think it's time we head home now huh? It's getting a bit late. Shall we go dear?"

"Yeah, it is getting a bit late," Iris nodded.

"We'll see you around, alright son?" Joe said with one last smile.

"Yeah, I'll see you later. Goodnight."

As the two began to walk away, Iris turned around and waved towards them. "Goodnight Barry!" She shouted and he waved lightly at her in acknowledgement.

Once they were finally out of view, the man slumped in his chair from complete mental exhaustion. By then their orders had arrived but he wasn't so sure whether he even had the appetite to eat now. "Oh my God," he groaned. "That was by far the most awkward conversation I've ever had with her. Did you see how uncomfortable she looked? Ugh, could things get any worse?"

Diana chuckled. "Well, it was a...just a tad bit awkward. But, I think she likes you. She was just as flushed as you were the entire time, I think Mr. West might have noticed it too."

She broke her chopsticks apart and proceeded to slurp down some noodles.

"W-Wha—Really?"

Looking up and halting herself from eating, she nodded her head," Mm, probably. I think that's why he, how do you say it? Um, I think that's why he...cut the conversation so short. You know, once he started noticing the attraction. Must've felt a little overprotective over his daughter I suppose. My mother was just like that when I first came to the patriarchs world. They call it...what do they call it now? Oh, that's right! Tiger parents I believe."

"Figures Joe would be overprotective. He's always been one of those gruff, hard ass kinda guys. No surprise there..."

"It can't be helped," Diana shrugged.

Barry gazed at her inquisitively as if he were pondering something important. However, he shook his head and sighed in exasperation before saying," No... I guess it can't..."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Barry and Diana are an odd dynamic, moreover, they are a dynamic that is not too often played around with among many of the DC comics and the fanfics that follow after them. I wanted to try something out, to do something unique because I like the idea of playing down the usual glamorous persona of Wonder Woman with the more pragmatic Diana Prince—and I wholeheartedly believe that Diana Prince and Barry Allen would get along immensely. This first chapter was a little mundane, however we will pick up on more momentum soon.

If you have any questions, comments, or suggestions, please leave a review!


	2. Chapter 2: Don't Wake Me

**Chapter Two: Don't Wake Me, I'm Dreaming**

Working at Paris' most iconic national institution, moreover, France's most revered historical monument was nothing short of difficult.

The Louvre was considered a cultural hub of fine arts and French history on a global scale, and maintaining the internal status quo was a feat in it of itself. Being that she was apart of the team of sixty curators in the museum, Diana Prince had a lot of work on her hands.

Most auspiciously for her, Diana was given the opportunity to be apart of the department she had a natural affinity to. Out of all eight departments of curation she was under the Department of Greek, Etruscan, and Roman Antiquities which was invariably her failsafe. Thus, aside from gallivanting as a vigilante on the majority of her day-to-day endeavors, Diana also served as a part-time curator under one of the Louvre's most prestigious departments. To say that maintaining both her roles as heroine and antiquities director was difficult would be a gross understatement, however Diana Prince managed to balance it with complete ease.

Most days, Diana would find herself working in her office as she managed the new artifacts that were delivered each week, checking for flaws, errors, or any discrepancies that could possibly lead to falsified items. For the most part, Diana was given the duty to curate and maintain different sections of the Grecian Antiquities rooms. She had to creatively place artifacts together in such a way that they could fall into a cohesive unit with a common theme suited for the aesthetic. It was a position that sounded and looked much easier than it was, which was why Diana had to keep her work flawless to a T.

Today was like most days.

Diana had just finished convening with the University of Paris Science et Lettres' History Department Director on a new artifact allegedly found by a farmer in the Parnitha mountains, a bust of Athena said to be over three-thousand-years-old. Unfortunately, the professor's team found the artifact to have been falsified sometime during the early 14th Century, thus making the bust illegitimate. It was sad really, as she had been previously giddy at the thought of adding a new piece to the collection.

Much to Diana's dismay, it had been completely fake.

At this point, Diana was ready to wolf down a gallon of tea to ease the migraine that was beginning to build at the back of her skull. The stress from these sorts of situations often did this to her. So during her lunch break, Diana locked herself in her office to seek some peace. With a steaming cup of chamomile tea in one hand and a pen in the other, Diana proceeded to jot down her report on the falsified bust without any thoughts of food on her mind. She was still reeling from the results of the Professor and his forensic team's findings.

At the turn of the clock, a loud knock resounded on her door as she scribbled away furiously at her reports.

"I said I won't be taking any meetings at this point, please reschedule for another day," she called out in annoyance without looking up from her notes.

"Even if I asked nicely?" A familiar voice reverberated back from the other side of the door.

Recognizing said voice, Diana immediately perked up from her work to peer up at the door. "Barry, is that you?"

"The one and only," she heard him respond in his usual quirky bravado and she found herself smiling.

Diana stood up in a haste and brushed herself off as if some imperceptible dust were clinging to her dress.

Without realizing, she passed her reflection on the glass case of personal antiquities and stopped, retracting her steps to stand in front of her reflection. Quickly now, she mussed her hair up and checked her teeth, fixing any imperfections that might have appeared during her long, strenuous work day.

More content with her appearance, Diana nodded to herself in satisfaction, before opening the door.

"Barry," she greeted with a smile. "What are you doing here in Paris?"

"Morning jog," he quipped," You know, since it's like, still sunrise in Central City."

She quirked her brow at him, smile never quite leaving her visage, as she led him inside her office.

As he followed her in, she noticed a thin box, akin to that of a large book that had been carefully tucked under his arm. When he noticed her gaze fixated on the item, he shrugged at her.

"What?" He queried in feigned innocence.

"That—"her eyes were directed at the box—"That right there. What is that?"

"Oh, just a gift for a friend I have who conveniently lives here. You know, in Paris, conveniently located where your work is. Thought I'd stop by on my way to delivering it." If he had sounded suspicious, she never really said anything at all.

"Oh," she said in despondency, failing to hide it.

He gave her an odd look, before sitting himself down on one of the chairs across her desk. Diana assumed her position once more as she took her perch upon the seat she had been occupying just moments before.

"Did you have lunch yet?"

"No, no. I haven't...I've just been so busy all week and all morning corresponding with a historian and his archaeological team on what I thought was a new finding for my exhibit."

"Thought? Hm, past tense, I see... From the looks of it—you know, sad demeanor, bags under the eyes from stress, I'd say it wasn't quite what you were looking for?"

Gingerly, Diana touched her under eyes in horror. "Is it so apparent?"

"Umm...yeah...kinda." He laughed while scratching the back of his head awkwardly. "Mind telling me the source of your troubles?"

Diana sighed. "It was this bust, a bust of Athena. The team that sent it to me alleged that it was dated to be over three thousand years old, but after some forensic tests from my colleagues at the University of Paris, we discovered that it was forged during the 14th Century."

"Ah, forensics you say? My kind of field. If you needed a favor I would've been more than happy to test it out before your correspondence. Save you a little time and embarrassment from those Academia folks."

She threw her head back and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Oh, gods, I forgot. I didn't even think to ask...remind me to start doing that next time I get the chance."

"Uh huh. My guess is that it took weeks to come to those results when in fact, if you passed it along to me, I could've got it done in let's say, a couple hours or so. Not to toot my own horn here, but c'mon let's be real, I'm me."

"Ugh, I guess I wasn't really using my head with this one."

"Clearly, you weren't."

She rolled her eyes. "Not helping, Barry..."

"Would've saved you time and stress. That's all I'm saying," he shrugged again before reaching out to pat her on the head. "Don't worry, there's always a next time."

"Yes, I should try to leave a reminder to myself next time they send something to my department."

He nodded before leaning down against his chair. "So, wanna grab a quick lunch?"

"You know what? Why not. I haven't eaten at all today."

Barry gasped in feigned shock, dramatically placing his hand on his chest as if he had just heard the most scandalous thing in the world.

"Diana! Now, that's just hypocritical of you, seeing as not too long ago, ahem six days ago to be exact, you were admonishing me for my eating habits. Hmm, I'm trying to remember what you said...something like...You said I ate like a...what is that now? Ah, like a college kid. Which I should take as a low brow jab seeing as we all know they, frankly, eat like shit."

"Ha ha," she rolled her eyes.

"So now, it seems the tables have turned."

"Oh, whatever. Like you're one to judge."

"Oh, but I am."

She stuck her tongue out at him as she crossed her arms.

"So what shall it be? City of Paris, cultural hub for gastronomical perfection, if indeed what the French say is true. Maybe grab something traditional?"

"Eh, I'm tired of haute cuisine, too snooty. Let's do something more relaxed."

"Oh thank God, because I really wasn't up for some fancy shmancy $200 dollar plate of a piece of protein drizzled in some expensive sauces or gold flakes or whatever it is they put in their dishes," he admitted.

Diana erupted in laughter. "Then why did you bring up the idea?"

"Well, I thought it's something you'd probably prefer."

She lightly slapped his arm, offended. "What, you think that is all I eat?"

"Nah...okay, maybe. I dunno, I just thought you like, had some crazy refined palette that's used to fine dining or whatever."

"Well, I'm no Bruce Wayne here."

"Um, well Princess is a little more above tier than that title I'd argue."

"Oh, hush. I am Diana Prince, an antiquities researcher and curator at the Louvre in Paris, thank you very much."

"Still sounds like a fancy title to me."

"But not that of a princess, am I right?"

"Alright, you got me there, Diana." She smirked in satisfaction.

He coaxed her again, this time searching for an answer. "So...? What'll it be? Café? Bistro? Bar?"

"Hmm, there is a bistro not too far away from the museum if you're up for it. I usually go there with my assistant when I forget to pack a lunch. How does that sound?"

"Sounds good to me," he held out his arm for her to hold and she followed him out the office with a smile.

* * *

They ended up grabbing some bread, cheese, and wine to-go in the local farmer's market and ate it at a park on La Grand Jatte, overlooking the Seine River. The weather was quite lovely, a cool autumn breeze had swept through the air while the sun still managed to peak through the white, fluffy clouds that littered the vivid sky. They returned to the Louvre in no longer than an hour, being that Diana had enough free time to spare.

As they reentered her office, Barry continued to lug around the box he had came in with, setting it down on her desk. Her interest was once again piqued.

"So, what's in the box?" She queried as casually as possible as she sat herself on her desk and shuffled through some papers.

"Ah, I saw you staring at it the entire day," he replied knowingly. "Why you'd be so interested in it though is something I'll never understand."

Oh, he was a terrible liar.

"Oh come on, you just mysteriously appear in my office. Parcel in hand. No real particular reason whatsoever as to why you're here—" she tapped on her desk anxiously"—either you're Hermes himself or you're here for a something important. And I am seriously thinking the latter."

He laughed, clutching his stomach. "Alright, alright. Fine. You got me. This package wasn't just for any friend..."

"Oh it wasn't, was it?"

"Heh, yeah...yeah, it was for you."

"Oh, come on, Barry!" She punched him lightly on the shoulder. "Why didn't you just tell me in the first place?"

"Ah, that hurt. Like a lot." He was rubbing his shoulder now. "But, you know me, just wanted to build the momentum. Wanted to see you squirm. And seeing as you were worrying your lip and sneaking glances at it the entire afternoon, it seems my plan pretty much worked."

"You're unbearable."

He shrugged. "But you love me right?"

Her heart skipped a beat momentarily and it shocked her that something like that was physiologically possible. And at this moment of all times. Why did she feel a flutter in her chest at his words?

"Y-Yes...sometimes," she replied, quickly regaining her composure. "Sometimes I hate you too, but you have some redeemable traits that I can work with."

She gave a sideways glance at him to check if he had noticed, thanking the gods that he seemed completely unfazed. It was all supposed to be a joke anyway.

"I'm hurt, Diana. Truly I am."

"Oh, sure you are. Now, do you plan on telling me what's inside the box?"

"Bet you wish you had Clark's x-ray vision now, don't cha?"

"Now you're just stalling," she crossed her arms, failing to contain her laughter. "Just tell me what is in the damn box already, Barry!"

Finally relenting, Diana watched as he slowly unraveled the box, pulling down various flaps to reveal a rectangular something wrapped in protective paper. Curiously, she peered at the object, still not quite understanding what it was. All of a sudden, Barry had halted in his ministrations, looking up at her with a questioning gaze.

"Now, here's the tricky part. I'm gonna need a pair of cotton gloves, a polypropylene board, a magnifying glass, and a pair of forceps for this," he said with a smile.

"Um, what? I-I don't understand."

"So, here's the story. Remember how I was sent on that mission to Alexandria to scout for the hidden base of those domestic terrorists in Egypt? Well, Vic staked out on the borders, while I was designated to stay in the city. And you know me, I like to do my exploring in the nanoseconds it takes to pass my time. Thought I'd casually run around and check everything out, but, you'd never guess what I found. I followed the coordinates of where the Serapeum was alleged to have been, did a little digging, and lo and behold, found something that might tickle your fancy."

"And that is?"

"Wait, hold on a sec," he vanished in the blink of an eye before returning with all the tools he had mentioned before.

She blinked, a little dazed. "W-Where did you get all of those?"

"Found them in the archaeological tool storage."

Diana nodded slowly, still amazed at how he was able to do the things he did. She still could not conceptualize how the speed force worked, physics was never really her forte as she was raised in a background that called for extraordinary things that often defied most physics.

As she thought about it, the Louvre was a massive institution, comprised of multiple buildings being that it was once a palace, and the fact that he was able to find all those tools within seconds was still difficult to comprehend—especially since she knew he had no idea of the full layout of the place. That meant he would of had to scout the entire building, which took the average person at least a full day and a half to fully walk around, and finally find it in the Ports Des Arts basement. Diana gulped.

"Alright, Barry, you've got your tools, now care telling me what this is?"

He grinned at her before slipping the gloves on and placing the object on top of the polypropylene board. With great care, he unwrapped the object to reveal a stack of papyrus papers...ones that looked so weathered-down, they could be ancient.

"Barry what is this?" Her eyes widened in excitement, almost certain that in front of her was an ancient relic.

"You'll never guess what I found," he used the forceps to open it up," I myself couldn't quite believe it, but, I knew for certain this was probably it. Allegedly lost in the annals of history, but guess who found it?"

"Is that...?"

"Homer's Margites, you bet your ass it is."

Diana felt as if her jaw was ready to drop to the floor. "The original copies?" She squeaked.

"Yep, if my forensic analyses are true. Which they are, 99.9% of the time."

She threw her arms around him in joy. To have this in her exhibit would be a splendid new addition to the Louvre's collection, the press would write articles about this. This would be published in the archaeological academic journals.

"Oh my gods, Barry! Do you know what this means? We're going to get a lot of press all over the globe for this find. Your name will be published on academic journals! This, this is amazing!"

She felt his hands tentatively wrap around her waist as he returned her embrace. Her heartbeat quickened ever so slightly. Idly, she wondered to herself if she was feeling a little sick. Once they pulled apart, she peered up at him to see a grin that matched her own. He was her best friend, the fact that he would go great lengths for her was only a testament to this. She loved him.

"Thank you, Barry. Thank you for being my greatest friend, I love you," she said in earnest.

Diana continued to smile, never quite catching the conflicted look on his countenance.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I know in the previous chapter I mentioned her having an embassy, but I realized that in the 2017 Justice League film, she's known as Diana Prince the curator, not the Princess. I apologize for this discrepancy.


	3. Chapter 3: Father, Lead Us

**Chapter Three: Father, Lead Us Through the Darkness**

It was approximately 18:29 and around 15:29 in GMT when warplanes attacked Khan Sheikhoun about fifty kilometers south of the city of Idlib in Syria. A great explosion, akin to a mushroom cloud, yellow in color, had engulfed the town in no less than fifteen minutes with all citizens in the surrounding area being affected by the fumes. It was a bomb, more deadly than the conventional thermobaric fuel-air bomb, leaving damage far greater than anyone could have possibly imagined.

A chemical weapon.

Eight-year-old Sayid only remembered how much his eyes stung in the dead of the night. He was ready to go to bed to attend school the next morning, before the explosion occurred. The air was absolutely acrid. With his sleeve over his nose, he ran from bed to find his younger sister and then his parents.

When his sister awoke, they followed each other down the stairs only to discover his parents lying on the kitchen floor, convulsing with foam dripping at the corners of their mouths. He cried in terror, too afraid at the scene before him, before he grabbed his younger sister by the arm and tugged her outside of the house.

Outside was much worse, a chaotic scene unraveled before the children's eyes, from what little they could see through the stinging sensation that permeated within. Their neighbors, equally terrified, were running about the streets, screams reverberated from every corner—it seemed as if the world was ending right then and there. He felt as if he could not move his arms, his sister was still desperately clinging to him and crying hysterically, everything was becoming more numb by the second. His hands, his legs, his body—the air was getting more difficult to breathe.

The world around him was spinning out of control, he felt himself choking now. Why could he not breathe?

All sensation was escaping him, replaced with nothing but a stinging pain that he felt in his limbs, in his veins. He felt his sister's grip on his arm loosening and suddenly, she fell to the floor, twitching uncontrollably. Sayid wanted to scream, however, no noise would come out.

His vision was depleting by the second, he blinked furiously, trying to stop the stinging in his eyes. The streets, the darkened sky, the people were all blurring around him, coalescing into a jumbled mess. Before fully losing all control, he glimpsed up at the sky to see an angel descending upon him. Her hair blew in the wind held by a golden crown upon her head. A look of worry marred her beautiful features, but she reminded him very much of his mother.

Was he going to paradise? He felt her hand cover his nose, before she carried him up in her arms.

And then everything went black.

* * *

It took a total of eighteen hours before Barry was able to fully contain a sarin gas bomb in Khan Sheikhoun on the onset of its detonation, along with the help of Diana and Victor.

According to the U.S. intelligence agencies, the gas was released by the Syrian government in response to civil warfare as a result of rebel offensive in the northern Hama province.

It was clear that this was a blatant act of chemical warfare. At least two hundred and eighty-six people, including children, were killed while hundreds of more were affected by the gas.

It was about eight o'clock in the morning when Victor alerted him about the explosion from the League's global surveillance station, he was just about ready to begin his day when he heard of the tragic news. Before even leaving, he knew that children would have been affected, chemical warfare knew no age limit. It killed all the occupants in its way with no discrimination.

Age, gender, political standing—nothing of that mattered in the face of death.

He was the first to arrive on the scene, Diana and Victor followed in less than an hour. To disperse the gas away from the area as quickly as possible, he was forced to circumvent around Khan Sheikhoun repeatedly for seventeen hours straight while Diana and Victor rescued the denizens throughout the area. He had to wear a protective mask to prevent inhalation of the fumes as he sped throughout the town until the gas was finally contained and oxygen levels in the atmosphere were able to fully stabilize.

Once he was able to bring the environmental conditions back into homeostasis, he ran through the town trying to save any of the few remaining survivors and transport them to the U.N. safety zone. With a heavy heart, Barry finally reconvened at the safety zone with his teammate Victor, carrying the last of the victims.

There were hundreds of people being treated by the medical professionals and volunteers of the Red Cross, while dozens of trucks were wheeling in the bodies of those who did not survive.

A plethora of corpses, draped in white blankets and government issued plastic body bags, were stacked on the back of a truck passing by. It was a scene he was all too used to seeing; terrorist attacks, civil warfare, death.

However, each time he saw it, it was as if it were new all over again. Like a fresh wound festering in the skin, painful and unpleasant. The faces of each person he tried to save, they managed to ingrain themselves in his memory no matter how many times he had seen it.

This was real life. This was the result of human error and the result of the malignancy that darkened the hearts of men who were put in positions of power for all the wrong reasons. He wanted to cry out for them all, all the poor unassuming souls that lost their lives from the terror of politics.

Though his body was spent from fatigue, he continued on, ambling around the safe zone; sending his condolences to the victims who cried out for their dead husbands, wives, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters—children.

The last of the trucks came by and it made him physically flinch as he surveyed the silhouettes of bodies under the white cloths. They were smaller this time and he knew for certain that it was the children. Parents scrambled towards the truck, wanting to see if they could confirm the bodies of the deceased. The drivers unveiled the cloths, and he immediately heard screams of anguish as each parent discovered their child in the heap. Barry winced, putting his hands over his face.

Things like this, the suffering, was something he would never quite get used to no matter how hard he tried.

He felt a strong hand grip his shoulder and turned. Victor stood by his side with a face like stone, but underneath the hardened lines, he could see the pure, unadulterated hurt that his expression failed to hide.

"How you holding up?" Victor murmured as they watched the mourners cry over their children's bodies. A dull aching pain was weighing down on both of the hero's hearts as they looked on.

"N-Not good, man. Not good," he replied in a shaky voice.

"...I know I'm not supposed to feel anything at all anymore, this programming has altered my body so much. But, God, I was crying. For the first time since my accident, I thought I wouldn't be able to feel human emotions anymore. God, I was wrong."

"Are you alright?"

"I...I guess I will be. It's been so hard on all of us. I know Bruce wanted it to be a three-man unit, but damn, I feel like we should've had more help."

"Where was Clark? Arthur? Bruce? Anyone."

"Apparently, a localized chemical detonation isn't as severe as the other things going on tonight. Lois was kidnapped and Clark thought it more important to find her than being here. Bruce and Arthur are trying to contain a poison that was released in Gotham's waters by the Joker, millions of people were in panic. We just didn't have enough manpower to allocate around the globe tonight."

Barry sighed.

"Hey," Victor spoke with a gratuitous voice. "Thanks for staying in the front lines to destabilize the gas, I can't imagine how much you've been through these past couple of hours. Must be tired."

"No, no...I can't imagine how you and Diana feel. You had to rescue them all...Christ, you had to see all those faces, those bodies."

Victor swore under his breath. "Speaking of, where is Diana? Did she ever confirm her progress at the checkpoint?"

"N-No, I haven't heard from her in hours. I didn't even see her at the checkpoint." His heart began to palpitate at the revelation.

Was Diana okay? Where was she? For all she was worth, Barry knew that Diana was by far, one of the strongest women, no, one of the strongest people he knew. He was well aware that her strength rivaled that of an entire army and in any situation, she could hold her own. Despite that, a sliver of dread had crept up within his chest. The man was completely afraid. Afraid for her safety.

"I thought she probably checked in with you, Vic! Did she not?" He was a little frantic now.

"No, I...I assumed she checked-in with you..."

"Shit..." he muttered under his breath, preparing himself to take another cursory round around the town to find her.

Before he could leave, however, Victor gripped him on the shoulder and pointed up towards the darkened skies. Barry turned, only to see the woman in question descending upon the ground, two small bundles in hand, with a look of agony etched across her features.

He exhaled a breath of relief and squinted his eyes to see her. There were tear stains across her cheeks.

A group of officials ran towards her and he felt himself running too. As she landed on the ground, she held out the two bundles. Inside, lay two dead children—a small boy and girl. The medical professionals reached out towards her to take the children, but she would not let go. He felt his heart sink even further in his chest.

"M'am, please, we have to take the bodies now. We need to confirm their identities," one of the volunteers pleaded.

"No, no, no...Please...I can...I can still save them...Please..." her words died out under her breath as she shook her head vehemently, clutching on to the bundles even tighter.

"Wonder Woman, please, we have to confirm their bodies," a U.N. official stepped in.

She shook her head, stepping away from them cautiously. "N-No...please..." she was crying now.

It was Barry's turn to step in. He could not handle it anymore, he just could not see her like this. It hurt him too much. "Wonder Woman please, we have to take the kids now. There's nothing you can do," he said sadly as he reached out to gingerly take the children.

Thankfully, she allowed him to, and he handed them to the medical reporters. Once she let go, her knees buckled and she fell to the floor. Her hand flew over her mouth to quiet the gasps that escaped her lips, the tears flowed down uncontrollably now while she watched the officials carry the children's corpses off.

Barry kneeled down with her, wrapping his arms around her, and she cried into his shoulders. "I could've saved them...I could've saved them..." she repeated in a broken mantra.

"Di, there was nothing you could do. You tried your best, the gases were too toxic for them to handle," he tried to reassure her.

"B-But, I thought that if I could...If I could just shield them away from it all... I could save them...It's all my fault."

He held her tighter. "Oh, no, no, no, Diana. It was not your fault. We couldn't have done anything more than what we did tonight. We gave our all, you gave your all. Don't blame yourself," he cooed.

"B-But, it wasn't enough...It wasn't enough..."

Victor trudged towards them with heavy steps. The expression on his face could not betray his pain no longer.

Barry watched as Diana looked up towards the cyborg, eyes still welling with tears. To his surprise, a single tear fell down Victor's face and he and Diana stared at one another for a moment. The two shared an unspoken conversation, one that Barry knew well. Everyone was hurting. This was all too much to bear.

Victor kneeled down and held Diana's hand, pulling her up to her feet. He then embraced her tightly, rubbing her back to console her as she continued to tear up.

"I'm so sorry Diana, you did your best," Victor choked as another tear streamed across his cheek.

By now, the group of Red Cross volunteers and medical professionals had long gone in order to give the grieving heroes their space.

It was just the three of them standing outside of the tents, looking upon the hundreds of dead adults and children that lay in piles. They were heroes, they were considered to be the pinnacle of what their species had to offer in power and strength, but they were intrinsically human too.

No matter how many times they ran into battle or experienced the tragedies of death, they could not stand there stoically without flinching. So long as they had the capacity to empathize with these victims, would they feel their pain. No amount of suffering could desensitize them from such a basic instinct.

Diana sniffed once more, before straightening up, as a solemn expression wiped the saddened visage completely clear. With her eyes still red, she wiped the tears furiously from her cheeks and her lips formed into a thin line.

"We can't stop now. There's more work to do," she said in resolution.

No longer did her voice quiver, and the strong, regal tone synonymous to her person reappeared once more. With the tears now dried, her face was devoid of emotion.

As much as they wanted to cry out for all the unfortunate souls lost that night, they had to remain as stoic as they could possibly be. After all, they were the only pillars of support for the victims and volunteers who needed them the most at this very moment.

This was simply what being a hero was.

* * *

They were to report their mission status back in the Watchtower in Metropolis.

Barry opted on riding in Victor's jet with Diana rather than traveling on his lonesome. Diana was still a bit shaken, despite how hard she tried to conceal it. He saw right through her and he wanted to support her any way he could. If that meant accompanying a grieving heroine in a harrowing three hour trip back to Metropolis, then so be it.

They all sat in silence, with Victor quietly piloting the ship, and Diana emotionlessly gazing out the window. She had been gripping his hand the entire trip, but he did not care. No words had been spoken in the hours that passed their journey back to the U.S. The silence was heavy with unspoken grief that clung to the air, however, no one had the heart to utter any of their thoughts.

After filing the reports, they unanimously agreed that they were done for the day and were given the approval to return to their respective homes from Bruce. Victor needed to recharge his system and left first, leaving Barry and Diana alone to discuss their burgeoning thoughts. As they sat in the watchtower, going through the global surveillance, a comfortable silence hung in the air.

Barry spoke first, not wanting to stall any longer. Since they had left Syria, he had a myriad questions still lingering in his mind all involving the incident that occurred with what he saw tonight. Tentatively, he placed his hand over hers as she idly scrolled through the surveillance servers.

"Hey, can I, can I ask you something?" He managed to say.

She turned towards him, breaking her concentration from the screens. "Yes?"

"Earlier tonight...when you returned to the safety zone with the kids...what happened?"

She visibly flinched. "What do you mean?"

"Well, it's just...we've worked together so many times in situations like this. We've always seen stuff like this, you know. But, not once have I ever seen you like that...so, so...affected, by it all."

"Well...they were children, Barry. That's why."

"No, no. We've done this before, you've saved kids before who weren't able to make it. This time was different. I want to know what happened, Di, please tell me."

She leaned back in her chair and stared blankly at the ceiling for quite awhile, as if she were beseeching towards the heavens for the right answers. Finally, with a deep sigh, she straightened herself and looked at him in all seriousness.

"It was the boy," she acquiesced.

"What?"

"The boy...he was with his sister. She had succumbed to the poison but he was still breathing."

He remained silent, allowing her to continue because he knew there was more to say.

"You see, I saw them when I was passing by and collecting some of the other remaining survivors. His neighborhood was at the very end of the town's borders and they were the last to be helped. I saw him there, standing, looking up at me. He was choking on the air, his sister was already on the floor. I...I rushed towards them and you know what he said to me before I picked him up?"

"...What did he say?"

"He said _,' mama.'"_

A tear fell from the corner of her eye as she said this and she blinked rapidly and inhaled a deep breath.

"Wait, so...?"

"Don't you get it? He thought I was his mother. His last moments of his life, this child was dying and thought he saw his mother. He thought she was saving him. That was his last living memory."

"Oh..."

"He smiled before I tried to cover his mouth from continuously inhaling more of the gas. He—He smiled at me when he was in my arms and closed his eyes," she was crying now. "He died smiling, thinking that I was his mother saving him. Do you know how much that hurt me? How much it hurt when I realized that I could not save him? When I realized that at that very moment, that child died in my arms."

"Diana, I'm sorry..."

"For all the power in the world, we cannot even save the most innocent of them all. That poor boy..." she looked up at him, wiping her tears away," That's why it hurt me so much. To think, what if I was that parent? What if I lost my child in such an evil way? I felt as if I could feel his mother's pain that moment he closed his eyes in my arms. It just hurt so much."

Barry leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her. "I'm so sorry Diana."

"...I wish I could've saved him. I wish I was stronger."

"You are. You're the strongest person I know and not just physically. Sometimes, things just happen. Things that are too far out of our reach. We can save them, but we can't save them all."

"I just wish that I could have saved him. In his last moments, he thought I was his mother...He probably thought that she was going to save him."

"Well, you know what?"

"What?"

"At the very least, he died thinking his mother was with him. If I could die, with my mom right by my side, holding onto me...I'd have been the happiest person right then and there," he admitted sadly.

Diana's eyes widened, knowing how deeply affected he was of Nora Allen's death. At that very moment, she thought of the boy in Syria and his last declaration before his death. Perhaps there was only hope in his mind as he closed his eyes. Perhaps there was happiness at the thought that he returned back into his mother's arms. She understood now.

She squeezed Barry's hand gently, a melancholic smile still lingering on her visage.

"Thank you, Barry."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Posted this chapter in celebration to the weekend release of Justice League (2017).

I modeled this chapter under a real life situation that occurred earlier this year in light of the current political turmoil in Syria, my apologies if this offends anyone. I wanted to show the real life, gritty issues that plague our everyday world and ultimately wanted to show, that at the end of the day, heroes are human too. They feel pain like any other person.


End file.
